


Nightcap

by Jean_Reyne



Category: RWBY
Genre: Bonding over warm drinks and being surrounded by power-hungry psychopaths, Emerald/Mercury, Emercury, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, jaded
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21522004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jean_Reyne/pseuds/Jean_Reyne
Summary: Emerald and Mercury share a nightcap and a story each. After all, even thieves and assassins find comfort in warm drinks and peaceable company.
Relationships: Mercury Black/Emerald Sustrai
Comments: 3
Kudos: 63





	Nightcap

Emerald’s quarters were the only place in the Citadel where Mercury felt like he could relax.

Her windows were covered with thick sheets, and the only light in the room came from candles she’d placed all over—on the bedside table, on the floor, by the doorway. Where she found so many, Mercury didn’t know, but he wasn’t about to complain. That ever-present violet hue to the Evernight sky was harsh, biting. Blinding, almost, after a while. Emerald’s room, though, was awash with the soft, gentle glow of candlelight. It felt good. A traitorous voice at the back of Mercury’s head suggested that _it felt like home_ and he buried the thought as deep as he could, refused to dwell on it. 

“Here.” Emerald nudged a steaming cup into his hands, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Careful, hot.”

“Wow, thanks for the warning,” Mercury drawled, accepting the cup from her. “Wouldn’t have known otherwise.”

Emerald snorted in reply and settled down beside him. They sipped their drinks in unison, content with one another’s company and the soft glow of Emerald’s candles and the silence, the calm. Peaceful, or as close to peaceful as they could get, given their current…situation.

“Mm, ‘s it good?” Emerald murmured eventually, voice low and calm. She asked him every time, and his answer was always the same.

“Mmph,” Mercury mmph’d, though not unappreciatively. Emerald seemed satisfied with that answer and they lapsed into a comfortable silence once more.

Neither of them was sure whose idea it was, these nightly drinks before bed. The first time was the evening after their little fight in the hallway, after Tyrian’s ‘farewell’ to them. Still rattled by his dark promises and thinly veiled threats and his unique brand of insanity, they lingered together for as long as possible. Mercury took it upon himself to walk her to her quarters, some unspoken agreement passing between them to refrain from parting ways just yet. Neither of them saw an issue with this. She was his partner. He was hers. It was their job to watch each other’s backs. It was entirely reasonable, Emerald decided, that he made her feel safe. It was entirely professional, Mercury reasoned, that he had a strong protective instinct for her.

Perhaps the nightly visits were his fault, but the warm drinks were on her. They weren’t used to having quite so much time on their hands without Cinder around, and while Mercury had long since killed the part of him that fidgeted uncomfortably or felt off-put by long silences, Emerald liked to keep her hands and mind occupied. As much as the both of them loved to run their mouth, it was difficult to keep up a steady stream of snark and sarcasm when sitting together on a bed in a dark room in a strange place full of psychopathic megalomaniacs and surrounded by creatures of darkness.

So yes, there were often awkward silences when the two sat together at night. There was something intimate about it that had them both floundering, that threw off their normal dynamic in a way that was for more comfortable than it should have been.

Brewing drinks seemed an easy fix, Emerald figured. Mercury had no reason to object. So it was that they found themselves taking a nightcap, one night after another. The drinks were mostly the same. It was often tea, since Emerald had enough of that to spare. Tonight, though, she was nursing a cup of coffee and she’d handed him a hot chocolate. She must have picked it up last time they were out.

“Hot chocolate, huh?” Mercury took a deep whiff of the steam rising from his cup. It was sweet, warm, made his throat feel good. He’d only drank it once before, a long time ago. “You don’t want any?”

“Nah,” Emerald shook her head. “Too sweet for me. I prefer coffee,” she said, taking a sip of her drink as if to prove it.

“That so?” Mercury replied, a teasing lilt to his voice. “How _mature_ of you.”

Emerald snorted into her cup. “Actually, that’s what I thought the first time I had coffee,” she admitted.

“You serious?” Mercury raised an eyebrow. “How old were you?”

“Ugh, I must have been…twelve, or something. Give or take.” Emerald didn’t really know how old she was, exactly, or when her birthday was. She didn’t seem pleased with that, but Mercury envied her—he only knew when his birthday was because his father had made a tradition of being particularly vicious on that day, specifically. To punish Mercury for having been born, the boy had decided. He likely wasn’t far off the mark.

“I, uh, _acquired_ some powdered coffee—" Mercury snorted at the term, Emerald’s voice pulling him from his darker thoughts— “and brewed it over a camp-stove I found.”

“…Like, _actually_ found or—"

“Yes, Mercury,” Emerald cut him off, elbowing him playfully—or he thought it was playful, anyway, since it certainly wasn’t hostile or aggressive. She’d been doing that more, lately. Mercury wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it but saw no reason to stop her.

“Found it in a pile of trash,” she continued. “Fixed it up pretty easily. Always amazing to see what people will throw away.”

That was true, Mercury mused, in his experience as well. “Ingenious,” he murmured in between small sips of his drink. “How clever of you.”

“I thought so too,” Emerald grinned, teeth glinting in the candlelight. “Coffee was an adult drink, right, and I—”

“An _adult_ drink,” Mercury mocked, though not unkindly. “Idiot.”

“—I figured I qualified,” Emerald went on, ignoring him, “after everything I had to do just to get a cup of the stuff.”

“Makes sense,” Mercury chimed, taking a long sip of his drink. It was still hot enough to burn his throat going down, but that was how he drank it all the time. More efficient that way.

“Drinking coffee right now, though,” he said after a moment’s silence. “That’ll keep you up all night.”

“Probably,” Emerald admitted, tone indifferent. “Not much difference either way.”

“Fair,” Mercury shrugged. He couldn’t blame her. He’d always been a light sleeper—was trained that way, had it beaten into him. No assassin worth his salt could be snuck up on, asleep or not, and Marcus Black had seen to it that Mercury was very much worth his salt. Still, here in the Evernight, his sleep was more restless than usual, plagued by dark dreams and visions and memories he’d rather not dwell on. He woke at the slightest noise and it took longer for him to go back under, and when morning came, he was never that much more rested than when he’d gone to bed to begin with.

Fitting, he thought, that a murderer should struggle to sleep soundly.

“—ppened the first time, actually,” Emerald was saying, waking him from his little reverie. She did that often, drew him out of his mind when he started thinking too hard. Whether it was purely coincidental, or if she’d actually learned to read him that well, he didn’t know. He found that he didn’t hate the idea, or the effect.

“What?” Mercury shook his head. “Didn’t hear.”

“That happened the first time I drank coffee,” she repeated, glancing over at him. “Staying up all night, I mean.”

“That’s what little kids get for drinking adult drinks,” Mercury quipped.

“Yeah,” Emerald chuckled. “It was bitter too.”

Mercury looked over at her. “You drank it black? Damn, Emerald, you’re harder than I thought.” Emerald smirked at the teasing lilt to his voice.

“Uh, yeah?” His partner arched a single eyebrow at him. “Where was I supposed to get sugar and milk from?”

Mercury blinked at her. “From…by stealing it from the same place you got the coffee powder? The fuck, Em?”

Emerald blinked at him before turning away, flushing lightly. “Well…I wasn’t much of a multitasker, then. I was just happy with the coffee.”

Mercury chuckled. Emerald flushed deeper, hastily sipping her drink and giving a little cry when it burnt going down.

“You drank it all anyway though, right?” Mercury teased, pausing to take a sip of his own drink. “Bitter or not, you drank every last drop and then didn’t sleep a wink—” The thief elbowed him in the side, drawing a snort from him.

“…Yeah,” Emerald admitted eventually. “After all the effort, I—well, it’d be a shame to waste it. I drank it all and went to bed happy. And then didn’t sleep at all. No regrets, not once. I _owned_ my choices.”

At that, Mercury gave a short bark of laughter. It felt genuine, and the smile came easier to his face than before. It was easy to laugh with—at? It felt like he was laughing _with_ her, though—Emerald.

“Alright,” Emerald hissed, though she was visibly fighting off a smile herself. “It’s not that funny.”

“Sure,” Mercury smirked, though he didn’t say anything further, content to busy his mouth with his drink. Emerald seemed to be having the same idea. 

They sat in comfortable silence for a while. Mercury was about halfway through his cup now. The flavour was richer near the bottom, where the dregs of the powder settled and lingered. Sweeter, fuller, more chocolate-y. By the look of it, Emerald was about the same. As if on cue, the both of them had begun to drink more slowly, savouring the drinks—and, admittedly, their time together before he had to leave.

For one, it was a…better tactical decision not to be alone in an environment as hostile as this. Tyrian and Watts and Salem and her pet Grimm may have been their allies, but he wasn’t about to let his guard down around them anytime soon. He and Emerald were on the back foot, here; inferior knowledge of the area, no escape route, and with Cinder gone, no allies. It was just him and Emerald against the world, here. It was perfectly logical, perfectly _professional_ , to want to minimise the time they spent apart.

And, of course, Emerald was good company. Mercury wasn’t about to deny himself what luxuries came his way. His father certainly hadn’t. Liking her or enjoying her presence didn’t mean he was going soft, not in the slightest.

Not in the slightest, he told himself.

“Your turn,” Emerald said suddenly after a minute or so had passed.

Mercury frowned. “What?”

“Your turn,” she repeated, gesturing at his half-full (half-empty? No, half-full seemed right) cup. “I told you about the first time I drank coffee.” She raised her mug, sloshing the liquid around. “So, what’s the first time you drank hot chocolate?”

Mercury hummed. He didn’t have to reach very far for the memory, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to share it—or rather, he wasn’t sure exactly how much of it he wanted to share. His little outburst in the training hall had been an unfortunate lapse of control (that had sounded remarkably like Cinder’s voice in his head just now, Mercury mused) and while he didn’t regret Emerald hearing it—Tyrian’s intrusion aside—it was stupid to share personal information for no good reason. ‘Going soft,’ Marcus would’ve called it, or ‘stupid’, or something brutally honest and unimaginative along those lines.

But then Marcus was dead by Mercury’s hand (or foot, anyway) and Mercury himself was sitting here having a nightcap with his partner.

Fuck Marcus.

“Was on a job,” he said. Slowly at first, but he steeled himself and went on. “Was, uh. Some town, northern Anima. Really cold, snowy and everything. I was in the common room at an inn, it was packed full, and I was meant to wait for the target to show and then radio my father. Ordered a cup of hot chocolate to blend in. It was the first thing on the menu, didn’t even think about it really. And then I had a sip, and uh…” Mercury paused to take a sip of his drink, grounding himself in the moment, in the sweet chocolate drink on his tongue and Emerald’s warmth pressed into his side—when had she gotten so _close,_ he hadn’t noticed—and the soft glow of candlelight.

“And it was good?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” Mercury snorted. “I never really had sweet stuff. No point, my father said. Pointless luxuries make you soft, whatever, whatever. Not that that stopped dad, but uh…yeah. So. it was really, really sweet, and I wasn’t used to that. Took me by surprise. Drank the whole thing, though, like you did. It was so good I missed the target arriving, called it in late.” Mercury paused to take a sip. Emerald glanced over at him, frowning at his blank, almost vacant expression.

“He wasn’t happy, obviously,” Mercury finished at last. He shrugged. She already knew what their relationship was like—they’d literally met next to his father’s still-warm corpse, after all, and he’d admitted to the beatings in the training hall already. She could put two and two together.

“Did he…” Her voice trailed off, uncertain. She already knew the answer, Mercury figured. She wasn’t stupid. She just didn’t know if it was smart to push the issue. To her great surprise _and_ his, he indulged her.

Or perhaps he was indulging himself.

“Yeah,” he murmured, then shrugged. “I made a mistake. He made sure I didn’t do it again. It was how we worked.”

Emerald was quiet for a bit. “How old?”

“Huh?” Mercury took a long draught of his hot chocolate. His throat felt dry all of a sudden. Swallowing, he asked, “How old was I, you mean?” At Emerald’s nod, he continued. “Twelve,” he said easily. He remembered that job pretty well—it had come right after his birthday. He’d still been sore when they headed out on the airship. He’d still been sore when they arrived back home.

Cracking a tentative smile, Emerald turned to him. “Same age as me, then,” she said softly, “when I first had coffee.”

Mercury blinked. “That’s…yeah, I guess. Why?”

Emerald shook her head, still smiling. Mercury wasn’t sure what to make of her expression, but it didn’t bother him much. It was a strange thing to notice and an even stranger thing to point out, but then Emerald was a strange girl. So was _he,_ for that matter. (Strange, not a girl.) He let it slide. They lapsed back into a comfortable silence, Emerald pressing ever so slightly closer to him. Mercury didn’t protest.

Their cups were nearly empty. Soon they’d be out of time, out of excuses. Mercury would have to leave to go sleep in his own room, where it was stifling and alien and the creak of mattress springs had him bolting awake, ready to fight or flee, and the violet light of the Evernight sky wore away at his eyes. Emerald would remain here, alone. Her candles would go out and the heat of Mercury’s body would fade, and then she would be cold and alone, lying awake, watching the door.

For now, though, they were content to sit still, shoulder to shoulder, in the gentle light of a dozen soft candles, warmed by hot chocolate and coffee. It was enough for the moment.

**Author's Note:**

> Emerald and Mercury have all the ingredients for a great partnership/potential romance dynamic. Emerald has lots of love to give, but can't see Cinder's abuse for what it is. Mercury is all-too familiar with abuse and isn't afraid to call it out, but has never been loved by anyone, ever. Someone make these two run away together please. 
> 
> In the meanwhile, enjoy this fanwork. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 
> 
> Thanks!


End file.
